"Maybe I've a mind to go to New York City and give this murdering bastard a taste of Brian Kelly."
"You'll stay in Dublin," Roarke repeated, eyes narrowed and cold, fists clenched and ready. "If I have to beat you unconscious first, then that's fine."
"You think you can take me down, do you?" Primed for a fight, Brian started to strip off his topcoat. "Let's have ago."
"Stop it, you idiots." Eve stepped between them, prepared to deck both if necessary. "You're staying in Dublin, Brian, because the only thing this bastard's getting a taste of is me. I'll have your travel visa blocked, and if you try to leave the country you'll spend some quality time in lockup."
"Travel visa be damned—"
"Shut up. And you," she continued, swinging to Roarke. "Step back. Nobody's beating anyone unconscious unless it's me. A couple days in Ireland and all you can think of is punching somebody. Must be the air."
Her 'link beeped. "That's Peabody. Now, the two of you remember: People who act like assholes get treated like assholes."
She stalked away to take the call. Brian's face broke out in a wide grin as he slapped Roarke on the back. "That's a woman, isn't it?"
"Delicate as a rose, my Eve. Fragile and quiet natured." He grinned himself when he heard her curse, loud and vicious. "A voice like a flute."
"And you're sloppy in love with her."
"Pitifully." He remained silent a moment, then spoke quietly. "Stay in Dublin, Brian. I know you can get around a blocked visa as easily as crossing High Street, but I'm asking you to do this. It's too soon after burying Jennie for me to risk losing another friend."
Brian heaved out a breath. "I wasn't thinking of going until you ordered me not to."
"The son of a bitch sent me flowers," Eve fumed as she stalked back. "Hey." When Roarke grabbed her lapels, she slapped at his hands and scowled.
"Explain."
"A couple dozen roses just arrived—with a note that hopes I'll be back on my feet and ready for the next match soon. Something about a no vena—whatever that is—being said in my name for my full and speedy recovery, too. Peabody's called a bomb unit, just in case, and she's holding the delivery boy, but he looks genuine. No direct transmission from our 'links this morning. McNab needs Brian's disc to run it for bounces." When his hands relaxed slightly, she put hers over them. "I've got to go back…. Now."
"Yes, we'll go straight back. Do you need a lift back to Dublin, Brian?"
"No, go on. I've my own ride. Take a care, Roarke," he said and wrapped his arms around him. "And come back."
"I will."
"And bring your lovely wife." While Eve blinked in surprise, Brian gathered her up in a bear hug, then kissed her long and lavishly. "Godspeed, Lieutenant darling, and you keep our lad here on the narrow if not the straight."
"Watch your back, Brian," Roarke called out as they walked away.
"And the rest of me as well," Brian promised, then turned to watch the fast boats streak across the water.
• • •
It was barely eight a.m. on the East Coast when Eve settled in to her office. She eyed the young, gawky delivery boy coolly while he sat fidgeting in the chair across from her desk.
"You get a call to deliver roses before six a.m. and that doesn't seem weird to you, Bobby?"
"Well, ma'am—sir—Lieutenant, we get that sometimes. We got this twenty-four-hour delivery service because people want the convenience. This one time I delivered a fern to the East Side at three a.m. This guy, see, he'd forgotten his lady's birthday, and she'd given him grief, and so he—"
"Yeah, yeah." Eve brushed it off. "Tell me again about the order."
"Okay, sure. No problem." His voice bobbed up and down like a cork on a restless sea. "I'm on call, see, for the midnight-to-eight shift. What happens is anybody who calls in to the shop, the transmission gets bounced to my beeper. I read the order on the screen, then I gotta go in, put the order together, and get it where it's going. I got a master for the flower shop so I can get in
when it's closed. My aunt owns the joint, so she, like, trusts me, and I'm going to school on the three-day-week thing, so it gives me some pocket credit."
"Officer Peabody has your beeper."
"Yeah, I handed it over. No perspiration, no debate. You want it, you got it."